


A Cruel, Bitter Valentine

by Belial_Aphroditus, Räv (Belial_Aphroditus)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, F/M, M/M, Murder Mystery, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Racist Language, amateur sleuth
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2017-11-02
Packaged: 2018-08-10 10:55:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7842049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Belial_Aphroditus/pseuds/Belial_Aphroditus, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Belial_Aphroditus/pseuds/R%C3%A4v
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A morbid midlife crisis gets Snape and a certain trio of trouble magnets involved with the murder of a nightclub singer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to twigcity and hobbitsdoitbetter for their Brit-pickers guides. Please check them out.
> 
> [a brit-picker's guide to writing one direction](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2025819/chapters/4394256) by [twigcity](http://archiveofourown.org/users/twigcity/pseuds/twigcity)
> 
> [The Cranky Bint's Guide To Brit-Picking](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2399513) by [hobbitsdoitbetter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hobbitsdoitbetter/pseuds/hobbitsdoitbetter)
> 
> This is An AU were the good guys (and some of the bad) live because I'm an adult-child playing with toys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> July 2, 2017: Did a couple of touch ups

 

Bits of paper drifted about the alley as Eric shuffled along muttering about the weather. Rex, Eric's dog, just trotted along, happy to be out. The pair stopped when some people in strange multi colored robes left a building. Assuming they were what his son called “Larpers” he gave them a once over, shrugged and went on his way. They seemed lost, looking for something up and down the street. He was sure they weren’t bad people. Still he felt it was best to leave strange types like that be.

That was when Rex ran from him to some propped up blue tarp. He ran in after him, and then he saw the inside of the tent.

 

* * *

 

Severus Snape had finished showering when he heard the radio turn on. With a groan he pressed his head against the tile and brooded. He had tried not to use magic around his muggle equipment but this hotel room was so small. But that was Snape’s life. He tried but he always seemed to muck things up. He turned off the tap and grabbed his wand.

“Barely decent water pressure anyway,” Snape mumbled. He wondered if yelling at the staff would improve his mood as he dried off. He concluded it wouldn’t but he should do it anyway.

Dried off, he left the bathroom. This hotel wasn’t a dump. The furnishings were tolerable. The service was passable. The food was edible if a bit bland. Snape got a bit of humor from telling a maid that he’d give the place an ‘A’ and the muggle took it as a compliment.

He put the head phones on and listened in on a conversation. His magic did damage the radio. Lucky for him he could hear the police dispatch though the static. A murder happened near this hotel.

“It’s something,” Snape murmured and dropped the headphones a little rougher than needed. ‘ _But should I go?’_ He thought. This trip hadn’t produced anything interesting, mostly drunken fights. Yet the tugging urge in the back of his mind reminded him why he was here.

He needed his fix.

After the war, Snape told Dumbledore he wouldn’t be returning to teach and he left that night. Uninterested in any of the after parties or a new job, all he wanted was peace and calm and _quiet_. Kingsley was good enough to make sure Snape got a stipend. That with his savings was his retirement funds.

His early retirement went well at first. Snape worked on new potions and even had some of his findings published. After two years of peace, everything began to fall apart. Being free from duty and work didn’t save him from himself. Potions and books, his former refuges, no longer comforted him. Snape’s contentment faded more and more. When the letter for the fourth annual victory ball came he realized what he had become.

Four years of freedom and what did what have to show for it? For almost a year he only left his home in Cokeworth to visit the muggle shop a few blocks away. He hadn’t had a conversation outside of clipped greetings at the store. The silence that made up his life filled his mind with words. Greasy, ugly, coward and mudblood rang out loudest of all. His only letters were for business. He had got a few Christmas cards but those had stopped when he never replied.

Something had to be done before the result was an act that couldn’t be undone. His first idea was to go to the ‘damn ball.’

 _‘It won’t work’_ he thought, ‘ _no one wants you there_.’ Still he needed to do something to keep his mind occupied. After Lily’s death he ended up walking through town to see the places they played at. Snape hoped it could work again.

He explored much of his hometown, rediscovering his old haunts. It was good to see the locations of his few happy memories. It still hurt to see them the same as he; still there, just older and worn down. He needed to go further as the bittersweet relief of Lily’s memories this time. Without any purpose there was little to direct the pain at.

Snape pushed outward on aimless wanderings. He found himself in abandon shelters of any sort tying to avoid the rain while in the countryside. Once or twice he had to scold the proprietor of some tourist trap. More often than not he stuck to cities like Birmingham and London. In London he found the answer in another of his skills, spying.

After getting dressed in simple Muggle clothes, he left the hotel and walked to a small alley. His non-verbal, wandless _Homenum Revelio_ showed no one hiding in the alley with him. Another spell disabled any nearby cameras. He slipped his wand from its pocket inside his jacket and held it close to his body. Snape then disillusioned himself and flew.

The flight only took a minute. Landing on a rooftop overlooking the crime scene, Snape remained Disillusioned and looked down. The police scoured a small plot of land used for junk. The focus was a tent which one detective was walking out to speak to another. This wasn’t a tent put up by the police to preserve evidence. It was blue tarp propped up on a pole in the middle with one end draped over rusted iron beams. The other weighed down by a rusty barrel and some broken off concrete. Snape took out a wireless extendable ear, disillusioned it and lowered it near them.

“So what do we know?” The detective who stayed outside of the tent asked. He looked older than the other and had a comb over and a noticeable gut while the younger had a crew cut and wiry muscles.

“Nothing new,” Detective Crew Cut said. “She was stabbed multiple times, so likely someone who knew her.” Crew Cut said now rubbing his neck. “No jewelry was found as well as any form of identification.”

 “Come on newbie that the best you can give me?” Detective Comb Over asked.

Crew Cut straightened up. “The body was definitely dumped here. I’ll ask the officers to look for the murder scene but its likely elsewhere. She was also dressed for a party.” Crew cut continued after pointing down the street. “Didn’t the man who found the body say he saw a weird group of weird people leaving that building?”

“And you think they’re involved,” Comb Over said.

“Maybe. One of my buddies rented a room in that place for a party when we all got back. I think we should check it out.”

“Good idea.” Comb over said deflating a little.

“I suppose it’s a start for you.” Snape said and removed the ear bud. He heard enough to meet his urge for secrets. He knew lingering longer would just make him a nuisance.

What he didn’t know was one of the SOCO officers was fighting with body bag’s zipper and needed more light. The coroner took the body out with the bag was open part way. Snape looked at the murdered woman’s face. Dried caked on blood in brown-black trails ran from her mouth and nose. Her mouth had slackened in death but her eyes still looked wide. Something else caught his attention first though.

 “Beatrice,” Snape whispered. He backed away from the view below. He carried himself calmly but his chest felt tight and his stomach was in knots. Unsure if he could breathe, he made his way into the stairwell of the building, the ear bellow forgotten. Lucky for him, it was stairwell was empty and the ear, if found, would just be considered junk. He made it to the first floor of the apartment building. Coming to a sharp halt when he saw officers were interviewing tenants.

 “Damn,” he hissed and then slipped unseen into the maintenance room. A quick check showed no cameras and any noise would be blamed on the machinery. Taking a deep breath he Apparated back into his hotel and checked out. Snape then Apparated from the alley again, to Spinner’s End.

Sitting down as soon as he inside, Snape placed his face in his hands. “What am I going to do now?” He asked his palms. Getting no answer, he just lifted his head and stared at the books that lined his walls.

He couldn’t walk into the Auror Department and tell them what he knew. Not without risking some time in Azkaban. He couldn’t leave her in some morgue unidentified either. And she would likely say unidentified. She was an American with no family here.

A tapping on his door caught his attention. Aiming his wand at the door he stood. Making his way to the door as quietly as he could, he looked out the frosted glass door. He saw nothing. No sign of a person benign or otherwise darkened his door. A second tap brought his eyes down. The source of the tapping was less than 40cm tall. Snape rolled his eyes and opened the door with a wave of his wand. An owl sauntered in carrying the Evening Prophet from the string that kept it rolled up. The owl dropped the paper at Snape’s feet and then held out his leg. A small brown purse was attached to it. The bird looked between Snape and his leg and shook the leg making the coins inside jingle. Snape took out his purse and dropped some Knuts in the bird’s purse. The owl looked at its leg and shook it. Happy with the sound, it bobbed at Snape and sauntered out the door.

Snape slammed the door after the owl flew off. ‘ _Blasted bird_ ,’ he thought. ‘ _At least I don’t have to worry about letters at all hours._ ’

‘ _Letters._ ’

His throat tightened.

Snape ran up to his room, opened one of the drawers in the plain worn down desk and pulled out some paper. After going through three sheets he wrote a letter that did not resemble his own writing.

Now came the hard part; mailing the damn thing. He had to go to the post to mail it but did not want to be seen. He did not have any polyjuice on hand. He couldn’t leave her until he could brew it.

 ‘ _There has to be a way_ ,’ he thought. He paced on, running his mind though plans and all the ways they could go wrong. Finally he sat down. “I guess it could work.” Snape murmured.

The first part was a notice-me-not charm focused on his face. It had to be only his face because if it was his whole self people would bump into him constantly. Besides no one wants to look at someone in a crowded queue anyway, so discovery was less likely. Next came charming his robes to fit better and turn a cream color. Finally he tied his hair up. A simple gesture he hoped with everything else would stop anyone from remembering him.

Snape Apparated to an Owl Post in Hogsmeade he knew would be busy and kept his head down. No one looked his way as he looked at the attendants. Spotting the most bored looking attendant he stood in her queue. He reacted as little as possible when bumped until he got to the front. Just as he hoped, the attendant only looked from _Witch Weekly_ to give his letter to the nearest owl. She left it open on the counter and the photo of a witch waved to him. She then leaned forward and laughed making the low cut of her robes even more obvious.

 The attendant returned and Snape left after paying. He walked out feeling something heavier than a letter was removed from his person. He Apparated once again back in his house. Snape fell back into his favorite chair. It was done.

‘ _Well almost_ ,’ he thought. Snape wanted to go to bed early but he would have to keep up his normal habits. ‘ _Now what would I be—?_ ’ He felt his stomach drop. He would be on his way to the Twisted Serpent right now.

The Twisted Serpent was where Beatrice was employed. He found the small nightclub in Knockturn Alley on one of his trips. To his surprise the owners were the younger Crabbe and Goyle. His surprise doubled when the pair dragged him into their establishment.

It was Beatrice’s night on stage. She wasn’t some sort of hidden diamond in this hole in the wall. Sure she could sing just fine but she could sing _just_ fine. Where her talent lay was her song writing. The rage, bitterness, and melancholy burned though her lyrics and her voice regardless of her mediocre singing. Snape felt a terrible awe and looked at her, transfixed by the magic of her words and pain. Since hearing her that night he had become a regular.

He got up and paced around the room.

 _‘What to do_?’ He thought. He did not want to raise any suspicion but he had become so weary of hiding things. Maybe he could not go and no one would notice. Yet if someone did look his way wouldn’t it be better to look as if his life hadn’t changed? If someone did they would find the both of them missing on the same day suspect.

With a groan he got up and changed his clothes back to their normal size and color. ‘ _I guess there is no avoiding this._ ’ Snape thought as he Apparated to Diagon Alley.

Even in the evening Diagon Alley was busy. Snape had no trouble making his way through the crowds as anyone who recognized him quickly got out of his way. He was grateful for his reputation. Soon he turned the corner and left the bustle. Knockturn was quiet as always. Its patrons slinked along silent and hidden under their hoods. Snape was the only one showing his face that day. After the war few wanted to be caught here and suspected of sympathy for the dark lord. Business did not end though, I just became more private. Snape had heard rumors of a secret network of fireplaces making their own floo network. but he never looked further into the 'Dark Floo.' The only places that looked open to walk-in traffic were Markus Scarrs’s, the White Wyvern and the Twisted Serpent..

A few doors down from the Wyvern there was a fight outside the Twisted Serpent. Snape saw Goyle introducing a drunkard in muggle exercise clothes to the pavement. The man must have fought his evection. Both men had bloody noses and Goyle’s robes were hanging off one of his shoulders. Goyle flicked his head back trying to toss back a dark lock that had fallen from his pompadour. Snape was reminded of a race horse tossing its mane.

“Evening Professor.” Goyle said.

Snape nodded back, “Evening Mr. Goyle.” Was all he said as he walked pass him and went inside knowing Goyle was still watching closely.

With the bar and stage there was little room for much else. A few small tables were filled with patrons. Most of drank their drinks and had murmured conversation. A few though looked to the empty stage, confused and annoyed. Snape took his usual spot at the bar. Vincent Crabbe was tending the bar.

If Goyle grew to be a race horse Crabbe was work horse. Sturdy and bulky with a shaved head Crabbe stood in front of an impressive collection of alcohol.

 “Your usual, sir?” Crabbe asked.

Snape nodded and was a given glass of tipsy fizz, the horribly named wizarding equivalent to rum and cola. He had a sip as Crabbe leaned in.

“You heard from Beatrice, sir?”

Crabbe’s second question tugged at his throat. He had hoped he could drink a little longer before the questions.

“No.” He said. He was glad to see lying was still natural for him.

“Damn bitch.” Crabbe said. Crabbe took up an interest in tattoos with two inked snakes writhed around his neck. Between their coils “Made in the Shade” was written on his skin.

“Language Mr. Crabbe,” Snape said then added, “And I don’t recall being her secretary.”

Crabbe gave Snape an annoyed glare until he remembered who he was talking to. “Oh right, sir. Sorry but this is the second time she pulled this.”

“Is it.”

“Yeah, she took off last week too. No note. Nothing. Told the mu—woman she try that again and I’d fire her.” Crabbe said and stiffed waiting for the fall out over what he almost said.

Snape only gave him a glare. “Did she say why she left?”

“No but she looked a little spooked now that I think of it.”

“Spooked?”

“Yeah like a scarred nappy little rabbit.” Crabbe answered. His eye held a mirthful glint and he smiled a little too wide for Snape’s patience.

Snape’s grip on his drink tightened. “I see. Any idea why Mr. Crabbe?”

“None, sir, though I did think that Greg mentioned her looking for a solicitor at some point.”

“That was almost a month ago,” Goyle said as he joined the two. He had cleaned himself up. He pulled out a stool and sat down, propping his elbow on the bar. “She said something about her music being stolen.”

“That would make me more angry than scared.” Crabbe said.

Snape nodded. “Did she say who stole from her?” He asked and took a longer drink from his glass.

“Yeah, yeah that Auror’s kid a year after us. She was in Ravenclaw.” Goyle said and looked up like her information was floating above him.

“Krystal Savage.” Snape said. He finished his drink and took out the money to pay.

“You ever going to drink more than one drink?” Crabbe said.

“Yeah, loosen up a little.” Goyle chimed in.

“Not today at least.” Snape got up and left the others at the bar as another regular came in.

 _'Could she really have been killed over music?'_ Snape thought as the sound of his boots on the pavement echoed down the street. Miss Savage could live up to her name. He remembered a very nasty hex she cast on a rival once. Also Snape had caught her trying to get by on as little work as possible more than once. So plagiarism wasn’t unlikely. Still he had a hard time imaging her as a killer. Snape planed his next move when another thought interrupted him.

_‘What the hell am I doing?’_

Snape stopped. Was he was actually investigating this? Beatrice would have wanted him to solve her murder. Maybe. And Snape has been occupied all day. He already had a lead.

He shook his head and began walking again. No, he wasn’t doing this. He did all he needed so he could go about his life as normal. That is why he went here, not to gather information. He told himself that with each step. Unfortunately, that resolve crumbled with those same steps. Snape balled his hands into his fist and ground his teeth.

_'When I started this I didn’t want to do anything risky. I never had any problems before now.'_

_'You never knew the victim before now.'_ The thought that drifted up from his mind stopped him in his tracks again. Unclenching his fists, he ran his fingers through his hair, pulling the locks from his face. This was what he wanted. It almost made him laugh but it was too pathetic. His morbid midlife crisis had given him a purpose. Snape felt the night chill on his face. His gut was in knots. He was going to do this. He had got away with his snooping before. He could get away with it. At least he hoped so as he turned and Apparated home.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We take a break from Snape and see how Harry is doing.

_‘Stop tugging on it,’_ Harry thought and let go of his tie. He wished he was in his Auror robes and not the ‘muggle investigation uniform.’ It was far too Dursleyish, stiff and constricting. But it was important to “look as plain as possible” as he was told.

Harry huffed. He felt like he was here to ask about UFOs and, judging the looks he was getting, everyone in the police station agreed. At least the glasses made sure no one here would recognize him later. They were charmed to make the wearer plain as possible looking. Of course he was also given false identification. As far as any of the muggles knew Patrick Travers was the visitor today. He was a man of average height, average build with average brown-black hair parted to the left. Harry Potter, the lanky, nervous man with messy jet black hair had never been here.

The American Aurors had been using this system for dealing with muggles since the 40s. Other communities were slowly picking it up since then.

Maybe his stomach was more to blame for Harry’s discomfort than the suit. It rebelled against Harry by kicking wildly. He swallowed down a few curses hoping his stomach would hear them better. He’d save real curses for whoever sent that letter if they turned out to be wasting his time.

The owl had come in as the sun was going down. The letter was simply addressed to the Auror department so the letter was dropped off at the front desk. The woman working the desk handed it off to Harry as he passed by. After reading, Harry went straight to his superiors. A dead witch was bad enough. The chance of a wand falling into muggle hands was a nightmare for the Ministry.

He found his hand fiddling with his tie again and grabbed it with the other. Harry knew his superiors could be watching. Sure he may have done plenty of cases before this but this was the first time as the lead investigator.

Forcing himself to focus on something he looked over at the desk next to him. ‘Amir Hyderi’ according to the name plate in front of him liked to keep a neat desk. A blank note pad sat neatly to the side, a photo frame on the other. With the name plate they made the only items on the smooth polished desk.

“I was told that you wanted to speak to me. I’m Detective Hyderi” A man said to him as he sat down at the desk. Harry looked up from the polished wood. Hyderi was a middle aged man with a portly frame, a comb over and a charming smile.

“Hello I’m Agent Patrick Travers. I left you a message yesterday.” Harry said.

“Yes,” Hyderi said and smiled wider, deepening the lines around his eyes. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get to you yesterday when you called.”

“It’s fine. It was late.”

“Yes, actually I was working on the case you called about. Now, uh, you said in your call this woman may be related to your case. What does MI5 want with this case?”

“I’m afraid that is classified. But if this woman is who we think she is...” Harry said not sure how to finish.

“You’ll be taking the case,” Hyderi finished with a cold tone. His simile faded.

Harry nodded. “I’m sorry to come in like this.”

“Don’t worry you’re not the first, but you are the most polite,” Hyderi said. He sighed before speaking again. “Though, I suppose I shouldn’t complain about someone lightening my work load.” He slapped his knees and waved over to someone behind Harry. “Okay then. My partner Detective Lee will take you to the body,” Hyderi said.

As Detective Lee came over Hyderi leaned forward, pressing his tie to his chest so it would stay out of his coffee. “I’d go with you there’s a birthday party for me in a few minutes and I need to remember to look surprised.” He whispered to Harry.

Harry smiled he whispered back. “Thank you and Happy Birthday.”

“Thank you too, Agent Travers.”

Harry said good-bye and turned around to meet Lee. He was muscular and had a crew cut. “Could you take me to the morgue?” Harry asked.

“Sure thing, I’m Detective Jason Lee. You can call me Jason.” Jason said holding out his hand.

Harry shook Jason’s hand. “Call me Patrick then.”

Harry and Jason walked down to the morgue pass offices and busy workers darting around them. They both remained silent save idle chit chat in the elevator. When they got there, Jason escorted him to one of the tables.  

Harry took out a folder labeled ‘Beatrice Vernetti Nulla’ and took the photo of a woman from it. She looked to be in her thirties. The photo showed a woman with a handsome jaw and full lips but otherwise plain looks. Looking at the body he could see it was the same woman. Her mouth was now slack empty of bubbly cheer her photo showed. Her eyes, Harry noted, was stuck wide in horror.

“So do we have a positive id?”

“Er, yes,” Harry said as he remembered his cover story. “And I’m afraid I have to take the case.”

“What.” Jason said. He straightened up and locked his jaw shut. He was an imposing sight.

Harry’s shoulders rounded. He had hoped this would be easier. “I understand how you feel but my branch has the tools to deal with these people.”

“These people? Do you mean terrorist? Look, I fought in the war. I know how these people work and I don’t need MI5 acting mysterious like I’m some idiot.”

 _I don’t have time for this. Don’t worry this is what you trained for._ He thought as he turned and reached into his coat. He touched the handle and cast a spell though the holster. Having taken care of any cameras with the spell he took out a leather wallet.

“This isn’t about terrorist, or anything you’ve dealt with before.” He said. “I’m afraid I can’t say what is going on but this might help you understand.” Harry opened the wallet.

Jason, who must have expected some sort of identification, looked surprised to see a small carved stone. Soon his eyes glaze over as Harry pushed his magic through the stone.

“I think you understand now,” Harry said.

“Yeah,” Jason replied. His speech was slowed as his thoughts were being feed to him.

Jason wobbled and held his head. Harry then pulled out his wand and in a quick flash removed and altered the memories of Jason’s confrontation. “Uh, I guess you’re right,” he said. “What’s next?”

“A college of mine will come for the body. Are you alright? You look like you need a break.” Harry said and held out his hand to catch him.

“I think you got the right idea there. Good luck with the case.” Jason mumbled as he turned to leave.

After a wave good-bye Harry was left alone. He looked down where Jason left and felt heaviness deep in his stomach. He hated this part of the job.

_____

 “You did well Harry.” Warren Adair, an Auror with a few years more experience than Harry, said. “Don’t worry about Detective Lee he will be fine. He’ll just be a little woozy for a while. You know muggles blame that sort of thing on catching bugs?”

“Huh.” Was all Harry could say as he clenched the arm rest. Adair didn’t notice as he whipped the car down around the corner. Adair had picked Harry up outside the police station and Harry told him about Jason’s reaction.

The stone was something else that came from the Americas, the US south west to be exact. It was found during the gold rush. Though there were some legends among the local magical tribe members hinting at its existence. Harry hated using it. Who ever held it could make their target obey. It didn’t force them the same way that the imperius curse did. The innate magic of the stone took the will of its victim completely. There was no awareness that one was being forced to do anything. As far as the victim knew they were doing what they wanted. Harry found this far more insidious.

“Why would someone go around catching bugs?”

Harry was pulled from his worries as Adair yanked the wheel to move around a slower car. “Don’t know, sir.” Harry said and pushed back against the car seat. “Where’d you get your license?”

Adair frowned as he jerked the wheel and trust the car into the next lane. “License?”

“Your muggle driving license, sir.”

Adair speed the car up. “They have licenses? These slow pokes?”

Harry just clung to the car the rest of the way.

At the crime scene Harry and Adair looked around. The only other people here were two Aurors that harry didn’t know by name. The muggle cops left when the Aurors took over the crime scene. Spells were quickly placed to scare away any snoops and whackers.

It was an awful place, nothing but trash. Harry thought about the woman who smiled so brightly in the photo. She was just thrown away under some tarp. Harry ground his teeth and walked to the tent. Its entrance waved in the slight breeze, remnants of fingerprint powder were visible under the noon sun. He made a mental note to check and see if the muggles found anything. Using his wand to pushed the tarp open he stepped inside.

 There wasn’t much inside including room. In the center was a pole held up by a tire filled with cement in the middle. There was nothing to go on. Not a trace of magic.

_Could a muggle have done this?_

Harry sighed as he left the tent. He felt heavy and slow. Looking down he tried not to think about how people like Lucius Malfoy would use such news. That was when Harry saw something peeking out from under a shampoo ad. He knelt on one knee. With a wave of a wand he pushed the paper aside and gasped when saw what was under it.

___

“It was an ear ‘Mione!”

“Ron, who’s telling the story?” Harry asked. Ron, Hermione and he were sitting in Hermione’s kitchen eating take away. Harry had already gone over the morning events with Ron and was going over them with Hermione.

“Do you have any idea whose ear?” Hermione asked and then ate some of her burger.

“Well it wasn’t a person’s ear. It was a wireless extendable ear.”

“Ron I told those things would be trouble.” Hermione scolded.

Ron held his arms up to block her accusation. “Whoa, whoa! Wait up! Harry doesn’t even know if it’s related to the murder.”

“That’s true.” Harry said.

Ron leaned back, smiled at Hermione, and folded his arms. “See.”

“But it’s probably involved.” Harry finished.

 “Come on!” Ron said as he unfolded his arms and turned to Harry.

“Sorry Ron,” Harry said in between laughs. “Honestly, so far all we got is that ear and her information.”

“What was her name? Was it someone we knew?” Hermione asked.

“Her name was Beatrice Null but I doubt you know her. She went to Ilvermorny and worked for some seedy bar owned by none other than Crabbe and Goyle.” Harry said. “Honestly they’re the top of my list.”

“What was she doing working for those two? I’m with you on them being involved.” Ron said pointing at Harry with his sandwich.

“What do you think Hermione?”

Hermione didn’t answer. Her brow was furrowed in the way it always did when her mind latched on to something. Harry let her be. If Hermione Granger was coming up with something, trust her and wait.

“Anyway Adair and Tonks are interviewing Crabbe and Goyle right now.”

Ron ate some of his food. “So,” He said before swallowing. “You’re not going to get into trouble telling us this?”

“Not unless I get caught.”

“Harry!” Hermione snapped.

“Come on Hermione, it’s not like we bend the rules before. I remember someone needing a little help busting a house elf abuser.”

“That was different. That elf was going to be killed at that rate.”

“Someone was already killed here. The best I can do is giving her some dignity and justice. The people who wronged her sure aren’t. And I’m at my best when I’m with you two.”

That comment stuck the mark and Hermione nodded. “Fine. Just promise me you will be careful. You’ve wanted to be an Auror for years.”

“Don’t worry. I needed to talk to Ron about the ear anyway and if anyone asks I’ll say he happened to be here.”

“Speaking of me,” Ron said, “I’ll go though our records. It’s a part of our defense line so any buyer has to give identification.”

“Great—Huh?” Harry said as a silvery wolf bounded into the room.

“Harry head back to the office when you can and tell Ron and Hermione hello for me.” Tonks said though her wolf Patronus. The wolf then faded.

“Well mate, sounds like you’ve been caught.” Ron said.

 “Hey Hermione, this place connected to the Floo?”

“Of course the powder’s in the blue jar.” Hermione said and waved him off. She and Ron got into an animated discussion as Harry grabbed a hand full of floo powder.

After dropped a hand full of powder in the fire, Harry walked in it the cramped fire place. “Auror’s Department,” he said Harry watched the flames turn green as he was taken away.

Harry tumbled out of the Department fireplace which was, to Harry’s relief, much larger than Hermione’s. While he dusted himself off, he heard the click if a woman’s heels approaching.

“Wotcher Harry, you got here quick.”

Harry looked up from dusting off his trousers. Tonks smiled at him as her shocking pink hair softened into a lavender color. “I was near a fireplace when you called. It was you right?”

“Yep. Got anything good?”

Harry nodded and told her about the store records.

“Good, but we managed to catch the killer.” Adair said catching up to them.

“What? Who?”

“Krystal Savage, we nabbed her at her neighbor hood. She had Ms Null’s wand and was wandering around with a bloody dress.” Tonks said.

“But wait there’s more,” Adair added, “We also ended up arresting both Mr. Malfoys, and Severus Snape.”


	3. Chapter 3

He hated this place.

He hated the beautiful garden. He hated every perfectly trimmed blade of grass, every leaf and every blossom. He hated the gravel walkway he where he walked. He hated how kicking a piece of gravel did little for his mood. He hated the manor ahead of him. He hated remembering the first time he saw that manor. He hated how much he wanted to live there. He hated every mistake he made to become a part of this world. He hated—

He hated Malfoy Manor.

Hunched forward Snape’s lank hair hung like blinders. He didn’t look up at the overcast sky but he knew its presence in the grim shadow it casted. The oppressive air of that moment made his chest heavy, anchored by his sluggish heart. His own organs wanted to drag him home and lock himself away. But he couldn’t permit that to happen again. He had to keep thinking about Beatrice and his only lead, Krystal Savage.

And he wasn’t going to get to Savage without one of her friends. The only one he was ‘close’ to was Draco.

A loud cry startled Snape. A blur of brilliant white tore its way through the green. Already drawing his wand he returned it to its home. The white peacock that had come out the brushes cried out again. The rest of the wrenched birds joined him this time.

The birds screamed out more and more as Snape reached the final stretch of the pathway. They reminded him of the screams that echoed from Snape’s memories into his nightmares.

He felt so heavy he wondered how he didn’t fall though the steps. The first drops of rain hit Snape’s back as the manor’s doors opened. He looked into the darkness but Snape saw no one there. A small cough brought his eyes downward.

A trembling house elf peeked out just behind the door. His bandaged fingers held the heavy oak door gently. Between the dirty wrapping Snape could see fresh bruises, likely from a cane.

“Master S-Snape, M-master Lucius awaits you in the den. Come with m-e.” The elf sputtered and turned to the manor. With a wave of a shaky hand the lamps in the foyer lit themselves. Snape stepped inside and the door shut behind him.

Since the war, the manor’s windows were all covered. The thick black curtains keep prying eyes blind to the lives of the ever secret Malfoys. A corrosive sort of magic filled the air here. Snape felt it slip though his skin and push its way though his veins. Following the elf deeper into the manor, the heads of magical and mundane beasts looked down at Snape. Their black eyes were as lifeless as his.

Lush Rococo scenes danced to life among the severed heads. Women in flowing robes, ribbons and massive feathers ran and played in their gardens. The men hid in the bushes leering at the women as still as muggle paintings. Snape wanted to laugh. The fantasies of the dwindling Sacred 28 of past glory were becoming more pathetic with time. Or maybe Snape was seeing how it always was.

The elf stopped at a door and bowed to Snape. “He is in there sir. May I get-t you anything.”

“No that will be all.” Snape said and entered the room.

The den was dim and the magic was heavier. Only a candle and a dying fire place lit his way. The portraits of the Malfoys past glared and hissed insults from their frames. Abraxas’s painted grey eyes looked at Snape from above the fireplace. He said nothing just glared.

Snape heard the clink of ice hitting glass. “So,” Lucius slurred. “For what do I owe the pleasure?”

Snape sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. This was going to give him a headache. “I’m sorry to come on short notice. I need to speak with Draco.”

“He’s out.”

 _That is the truth_. Snape thought. “Ah I see. Any idea where I may find him?”

“No.”

 _That is not_. “Do you know where he is and when he will be back?”

“No and I have — I have no interest in an interrogation.”

“I’m sorry, Lucius. I just thought a father would be more concerned about his son’s location.” Snape said and turned to look at the fire. It had been burning for some time and would need fuel soon.

Lucius slammed his glass on the table next to him nearly tipping the candle. “I do give a damn about my son.”

“I know, Lucius, and you know I care too. You know what I was willing to sacrifice for him. He’s done something stupid hasn’t he?” Snape said and spun back to face the fire letting his robes flare out.

Lucius sighed. “You’re a bastard Snape but an astute one.” Lucius said not even hiding a smirk. It seemed like a wane reflection of the one Snape remembered. “And I do know where Draco is.”

Abraxas cleared his throat and Lucius slunk forward as if a weight had dropped on his shoulders.

Snape didn’t look away. Keeping his eyes on Lucius he said, “You’re still letting him push you around?”

“Sorry Severus but in the end all you have is family.”

Snape pressed both hands into the leather chair level with Lucius’s head. Leaning in Snape said, “Then consider me family. Where. Is. Draco?”

Even after stepping back, Snape didn’t look to see Abraxas’s expression. But judging by the true smile on Lucius’s face it must have been scandalous.

“Alright. Alright. A friend of his, Krystal Savage, floo’d an hour and a half ago I believe. She was in tears as one of my elves told me. Draco, instead of getting me like a sensible boy, takes off. I was waiting for him to come back when you came. Think of what Astoria would think.”

“I see,” Snape said. He reached up for the floo pot. “Are you coming?”

“I suppose so. I’ve waited for the boy long enough.” Lucius said and the two traveled to Krystal Savage’s flat.

After being deposited on the floor Snape brushed off the ashes from his coat and looked around.

The apartment was a mess. Scorch marks peppered the room and bits of ceramic, glass and wood littered the floor in piles. He took out his wand and kicked the remnants of a chair leg drawing a yelp from the bathroom.

“Krystal?” Draco called from the bathroom as Lucius exited the fireplace.

After one look Lucius shouted “DRACO!” causing Snape to twitch as Lucius’s voice cracked in panic.

“Dad!” Draco shouted back and came into the room quickly but wand first. “Professor Snape, Dad, why are you here?” He asked with surprising eloquence. Well surprising for someone with blood running from his nose and covering his chin. He lowered his wand and shrunk away from the two. “We’re here because you took off and are a mess. What happened?” Lucius asked while running over to fuss some more.

Snape could feel the knot forming in his stomach.

“I-I’m fine.” Draco said looking away from his father.

“Don’t give me that. You should have come to me first. Now look at you!” Lucius scolded and pushed his son to force him to look at him.

Snape balled his hands so they wouldn’t shake.

“I already fixed my nose. I-I was just cleaning off the blood and then I was going- I was going to get you. I didn’t think it would be so bad.” Draco somehow got paler.

Lucius’s cold grey eyes now burned.

Snape had to do something.

He grabbed a piece of fabric likely belonging to the torn apart couch behind Draco and handed it to him. “Clean your face off and tell us what happened.” Snape told him.

Lucius looked as if he was going to tear into Snape. Instead he calmed a little as his son began to speak.

“When Krystal called on the floo, she said she needed my help. I asked if I should get Astoria and she said no, just me. So I came and she said I had to help her to get rid of the evidence. She was crying that all her spells just bounced off, Draco said waving his hands around. As if they couldn’t see the damage. “She kept saying she didn’t want to do it and I asked her what she did.” Draco stopped for breath and bit his lip.

“What happened, Mr. Malfoy?” Snape asked. He had a feeling what the answer was but he wanted to hold out hope for Draco. Yes, she had her faults but she also risked her friendships to call Draco a friend their last year at Hogwarts. If what he thought was true this was going to hurt Draco. But maybe—

“She thought she stabbed a woman to death.”

Snape’s stomach dropped.

“Draco,” Lucius said, “Usually, if one stabs a woman to death they don’t ‘think’ they killed them. They know.”

“Yes, but she couldn’t have.”

“Mr. Mal-Draco,” Snape said, “I know you don’t want to believe a friend could do this.”

“No! No! I mean her story doesn’t match up with reality. When I tried to tell her this she lost it and hit me in the face with whatever that is.” Draco said and pointed to a crystal sculpture on the floor.

What Draco was pointing was in the hall a few feet away. Snape picked it up. It looked to be a reward. Turning it over, he could see blood drying. He felt a wave of fear for Draco. It was quite heavy.

“She ran out after that.” Draco said then shot up straight. “I need to find her!”

Lucius held out his hand. “Not a chance. You’ve got yourself into enough trouble.”

“I can take care of myself, _father_!” Draco shouted and ran from the apartment.

“Lucius’s face twisted with rage as he turned to where his son left. His long blonde hair smacked Snape’s face, giving Lucius enough time to get out of arms reach as he left.

Snape stood a moment among the wreckage. _I don’t know what I expected_ , Snape thought, _but it had to be better than this_. Snape stormed after the two Malfoys muttering insults as they were out of earshot. He was about to go over how they were overly emotional nitwits again when Draco came back up the stairs.

“She’s on the roof!” Draco shouted as he ran pass Snape.

Snape turned on his heel and ran after Draco, surpassing him on the last set of stairs. He slowed to a stop and held out a hand to catch Draco. “Wait,” Snape panted and he drew his wand. Casting a silencing spell on the door, Snape slipped out onto the roof.

It was sunny here. There was no cover of clouds to block the harsh light. Snape squinted and looked for Krystal. He found her on the ledge looking up to the blue sky. She was saying good-bye. The wind twisted around her lifting her white shirt. Her honey brown hair whipped around in the breeze. She was holding a pink bundle close to her chest. He could see the blood stains. She held it tight. Draco stepped out onto the roof and called out to her. She only turned and met their eyes for a second, first Draco then Snape. Then she fell from sight.

_She did it._

Snape, with only that thought, flew after her and caught her by the time they fell three stories. A spell from below hit them then spread around him in waves of light. Looking down Snape saw Lucius and a dispersing crowd of Muggles.

 _A muggle repelling charm,_ Snape thought feeling a bit dumb for not think of that himself.

Once Miss Savage realized what had happened, she lived up to her name. Screaming, and kicking she failed to to break from Snape’s grip. Her bundle also stayed safe pressed between them. Snape kept her close as they slowed down.

Safe on the ground she managed to break free by biting Snape on the cheek. Snape screamed as he dropped her. Miss Savage stumbled as her bare feet hit hot pavement. She bolted forward for a few steps when a jet of red light hit her. She crumpled, stunned.

“Dad, why’d you do that?” Draco shouted angered at the sight of his father stunning his friend. Snape didn’t share Draco’s concern. Putting his hand on his face he found he was bleeding a good bit.

“Hell of a thank you Miss Savage.” Snape murmured, fighting the urge to take points from Ravenclaw.

Snape looked over to a claim Lucius just as a series of pops went off around them. Fifteen Aurors appeared around them. One stepped forward. It was Sirius Black. Snape’s stomach dropped knowing what this scene looked like.

Black looked at the fallen woman and then them. His lips pulled back into a snarl but the glint in his eyes betrayed the mirth he was trying to hide.

___

Sitting in his cell, twisting the bloodstained rag he was given for his face Snape watched the door. Black and his partner Lupin had taken Draco and Lucius for questioning an hour ago. Other than a drunk in the cell next to him he had had no company.

And said drunk was terrible company at the moment.

“Eeeeehhhh. Heeeeeey, HEEEEEEEEY!”

“What?” Snape hissed. He kept his eyes locked on the door hoping he’d take the hint.

“Snapeeey, reeeemeeber mee?”

“I’m afraid not. The smell of cheep liquor is affecting my memory.” Snape said to the drunk.

“Oooh, I dnow that feeling,” The plastered bastard said then brayed laughter. That proved to be a bad idea. His laughter quickly stopped and he made a loud “urgh” noise.

Snape groaned and covered his nose with the rag as the drunk vomited. Tears were building as Snape’s nose burned from the smell.

“I was, uh, I was one of your students.” The drunk mumbled. “One year, my caldron blew. The potion became this sticky mess. Stuck to the ceiling. You were-urp, mad.”

“Mr. Stewart!” Snape recalled. Looking to confirm his outburst Snape looked over to the man and studied his face. It was him but far worse for wear.

Stewart’s grin faded as he looked at Snape. His lip trembled.

“Don’t look like much now huh?” Stewart said. “Deatheaters took everything. Burned my shop down, dragged my husband away. Never saw him again. Didn’t get to bury him. Muggle you know.”

“I’m sorry.” Snape said.

“You should be”

Snape listened to Stewart’s sobs in silence. He wasn't sure for how long before Tonks, Harry ‘of course it had to be you’ Potter and another Auror strode in.

“Professor,” Potter said, “I need you to come with us.”

Snape followed Tonks and Potter and the other Auror flanked him. News of Snape’s arrest got around. All along the narrow corridors Auror peeked out of the doors at him. He recognized some as students, others as classmates. They were all clearly happy at the sight.

Soon the four stopped at a heavy iron door. Tonks took out her wand, nearly dropped it and then waved it at the door. It opened with a heavy slow creak. Even Snape found it a bit dramatic. The interrogation room was as bare as expected. Only a hanging light, a table and three chairs were in the room. Snape took his seat and glared at Potter when the chair, as expected, wobbled.

Tonks took the chair facing Snape, the other Auror sat to her left and Potter leaned against the door.

“Let’s talk about today.” Tonks said.

Snape’s head snapped towards her. “What’s there to talk about? I save a woman’s life and the thanks I get is assault and an arrest.” Snape hissed making sure to give Potter another full glare before he finished.

“Now Snape, I know you’ve had a rough day.” The other Auror said. The man seemed familiar, a Hufflepuff maybe. “But well we do need to hear everyone’s story right?”

“Fine,” Snape answered. He told the Aurors what had happened mostly honestly. If either the Malfoy’s lied to protect themselves or the murderess it would be on them.

“Yes, well then that’s all good. Still I have to ask, why we’re you visiting Draco? Is that something you do often?” Tonks asked. Potter tilted his head, obviously interested.

“No,” Snape answered, “I-I found that I cut myself off from the world and I was trying to…reconnect.”

Potter seemed a bit put out by that statement.

_Aww, is Saint Potter upset I didn’t turn to him first? Boohoo you little brat._

“Well then, I guess that it, except for Beatrice Nulla.” The other Auror said.

_Damn, where do I know him from?_

“What about her?” Snape asked.

Tonks answered his question with another. “When’s the last time you spoke to her?”

Snape tilted his head and thought, _A little honesty helps the lies_. “A week I believe,” he said.

“And your relationship”

“Acquaintances.” 

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“We spoke to Crabbe and Goyle.” Tonks said and reached out to hold his hand. “They said you went home with her a few times. You can tell us we won’t judge you. She was very pretty.”

Snape snatched his hand away from her. “Honestly is everyone’s mind in the gutter these days. Yes I walked her home. She didn’t feel safe in her neighborhood. She mostly just wasted my time.”

“She was murdered yesterday.” Potter said. “I guess she had good reason to be afraid. Any idea why?”

Snape imagined Potter had just told him his neighbor’s dog died. “I’m sorry. She only mentioned vague trouble about her neighborhood.”

 _Was she trying to tell me something?_ Snape thought feeling a bit sick at the idea of being so caught up in his own mess that he let someone die. _No_ , he thought, _she didn’t seem afraid_.

In fact, Snape though she had other motives. He likely never got as many would-be paramours as Potter, but wasn’t free of the burden either. Beatrice wasn’t afraid at all when she would ask him to take her home. He knew right away what she wanted. He was going to reject her each time. But he never did, He never—

“Where were you yesterday?” The other Auror—

_Adair! Warren Adair! He was an obnoxious brat back when he was a Hufflepuff too._

—Adair said.

Snape straightened up and scowled. “Home. Alone. I don’t…appreciate were this questioning is going.”

“We’re sorry but we have to ask.” Tonks said.

“And you have. Any other attacks on my character while you have me here?”

“No Snape, we just want to know. You said you didn’t know what trouble she was in but didn’t Goyle tell you about her and Krystal?”

_Shite._

“I didn’t think about it.”

“And you happened to visit the Malfoy’s on the same day that Draco was at Krystal’s place?”

“You make sound more implausible than it was. Draco and Krystal are friends so I imagine he’s often at her place. When it comes to her suicide attempt… it was a fortunate coincidence. That I was there I mean.”

Tonks leaned back. She sighed. “You’re not doing yourself any favors by lying.”

“Mrs. Lupin I assure you I have told you everything I know. What could you possibly suspect me of?”

“What I think Snape” Tonks said and got out of her chair, “is that you were at the Malfoy’s to get Draco. You wanted Draco to lead you to Krystal so you could get revenge on her for killing Beatrice.”

“That’s entertaining and dramatic. Do you ghost write for Skeeter? But tell me how could I be on a revenge quest when I had no clue until now that Miss Nulla was dead?” Snape said leaning in. He was getting close to an escape. He could feel it.

“We think you actually did know. Someone knew at least. They sent a letter to the Auror department. Have you been writing much?” Adair asked.

“No.”

“No to the writing or is that one of those ‘ _oh no_ I’ve been found out’ no’s?”

“No to the writing you dunderhead.” Snape snapped.

Adair leaned away holding his hands up. “Now, now Snape no need to throw such a harsh word around.” He said clearly mocking him.

“You really are the only person I know who uses that word.”

“Mr. Potter it’s nice of you to join us but maybe stick to the topic at hand.”

Potter walked over and tossed a small clear bag on the table. Inside Snape saw the extendable ear he had left behind. “I would say this is relevant. We found this where Krystal's body was found.”

Snape raised a brow. “For your case, yes, Mr. Potter but again _what does this have to do with me_?” He said. “All you have are scraps of circumstantial evidence.”

“You were acquaintances with the victim, someone who knew her sent a letter to us, and,” Potter said as he counted each point with his fingers. “You were also at the suspect’s house a day after you learned about their legal fight. That a little more than scraps and it’s enough for the Wizengamot. We can help you if you’re honest with us.”

Snape looked at the three Aurors one at a time. His lips thinned out into a stern line. His eyes found their way back to Potter’s eyes—Lily’s eyes.

_Some things will never be easy._

“Yes, Mr. Potter. I did want to see Miss Savage, _but not to harm her_.” Snape said and pointed a finger at Tonks. “I didn’t know she was dead. I was just concerned. I hadn’t spoken to her in sometime. Then she skips work. I simply wanted a better idea of what was going on.” Snape said and then looked down at his hands. How long had he been holding them so tight? “So, either arrest me or let me go.”

The Aurors looked to each other.

Potter sighed. “Well be in touch,” He said.

I seemed Snape’s story satisfied them. Or at least they wanted him to think so.

Snape stood up his knees aching from time and stillness. Potter followed then led Snape though the Auror department. Paperwork flew above them as Auror jostled about to desks and offices. Many stopped to stare at Snape and Potter before going back to work. Green lighted flared from a meeting room as people left by floo. Rufus Scrimgeour though left chatting and laughing with his Russian counterpart. He and Potter met eyes for a moment. Unlike the others, Scrimgeour did not look at Potter with awe but cold contempt.

“Auror Potter,” He said. When Scrimgeour’s glare turned to Snape, he felt ice in his veins. The Head Aurors glare, framed in gold rimmed glasses was chilling. “And Severus Snape. What could the two of you be together for?”

“Pro-Mr. Snape was here for questioning. I’m escorting him out.” Potter said.

“All for the best. I’d hate to see the trouble the two of you can cause together.” Scrimgeour said then left them.

“Your boss has little faith in your…abilities.” Snape said.

“He doesn’t think much of you either,” Potter quipped then continued to lead Snape.

Once the two were in an empty hallway Potter turned on his heel to face Snape. “Sir, please, do yourself a favor, stay out of this. Go on a vacation or something.”

“Mr. Potter,” Snape says and walks up, “I do not think I need _your_ advice.”

“Look Snape,” Potter said. “I don’t want to be your enemy, just stay out of this, please.” He stayed still after speaking looking to Snape for a response. When none came Potter straightened up. “Fine. I warned you. If you get yourself into trouble it’s on you.”

Potter left him with a wave of his hand. “I think you can find the rest of the way out.” He said not even bothering to look back at Snape.

Snape made sure Potter had left before turning back to leave. He saw something move out of the corner of his eye. _So it isn’t just me here_ , he thought.

____

The packed greasy spoon bustled with laborers. The men either were getting off work or about to start the night-shift. Waitresses ran from table serving the raucous men. No table was empty and the only one with one patron was Snape's.

The mug of one of the labors caught his attention. The man smacked his friend on the shoulder and pointed at Snape. Snape gripped his wand inside of his coat. He did not want to draw it after today but getting the shite kicked out of him would be worse

The man’s friend saw Snape reach for something and had a bit more sense than his friend. He smacked the other man upside the head and they went back to their food.

Snape returned to sipping his cup of tea and drumming his hands on the table.

_Who does Potter think he is?_

_The boy who lived twice and killed the Dark Lord._

_Shut up._

The waitress distracted him from his internal argument to bring him his meal. She gracelessly shoved the sausage butty in front of him. Snape looked up at the waitress. She was older than Snape but not by more than a decade. It was hard to tell what parts of her hair had gone white and was still blond. She left without asking if he needed anything else.

Snape went back to his thoughts and took a bite of his sandwich. _What now?_ He thought.

 There was a good chance the Aurors were following him. The Malfoy’s were no longer speaking to him. Savage was in prison under the ministry as they prepared to ship her of to Azkaban. That should be enough for Snape. Time for him to go home and move on with his life, yet he couldn’t. Something nagged at him. Draco said that there was no possible way Savage could be a killer. How did he know? And if she wasn’t the killer who was? He didn’t know what was worse, these thoughts or realizing how cheesy this all was.

_What’s next a femme fatal?_

_But this was just like the war_. He knew deep in the pit of his soul. _That’s why I’m doing this. I have a purpose again. The Aurors have their suspect so they won’t investigate further._

Snape finished his food wanting to go home. He walked to the street where Beatrice’s flat was. The worse thing of all was that this was it. Unless something happened the closest he could get to that flat was here. Snape was accepting this. This chapter of his life would end on the pavement across the street. Then he heard footsteps behind him. A woman stepped out of the dark alley behind him into the yellow-orange glow of the streetlights.

“It’s been sometime, sir.” She said.  
“What are you doing here?”

“Helping you,” She said and with the tilt of her bushy head, Hermione Granger smiled. “So are you coming?” She asked and walked up to him. She stopped dead in front of him and. “Or are you going to do what Harry Potter tells you to?”

Snape smirked and said, “Lead the way Miss Granger.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally these two are together


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The investigation gets underway, Hermione's woes enter loudly and Snape mashes his pop culture references.

 “Catch,” Granger said and threw a rolled up paper bag to Snape. Whatever was inside wasn’t heavy. He began to unroll it when Granger hissed. “Don’t open it here, it’s the invisibility cloak.”

He did not answer but Granger still felt the need to continue speaking. “I didn’t think you wanted to be seen.” She said.

 _I might as well make this a conversation_. “How long have been following me?”

Granger’s body stiffened then realizing what she said. With a sigh she allowed her shoulders to drop. “Gave myself away there, didn’t I?” She whispered. “I’ll tell you but I don’t want talk about this in the street. You may want to walk into the alley so it looks like you’re leaving.”

Snape found that last bit patronizing but kept quiet. He had to stay in her good graces until he got what he needed. Thinking about how horrible that sounded, he walked into the darkness and put the cloak on. Now invisible, he walked next to Granger and whispered, “Ready Miss Granger?” to her.

Granger, to her credit, did not show that someone had spoken to her. She only walked across the street with Snape her silent follower behind her. She grabbed hold of the door handle and looked though the glass. “Someone’s in there.” she whispered.

Opening the door they walked into the ground floor of the building. Cracks ran up and down the grayed robin’s egg blue walls. Parts of it had flaked off in small and large patches revealing the base coat and the concrete beneath that. An old man stood still resting his chin his broom. Snape recognized him as ‘Al’ from the few times he was here.

“Hello, Detective Granger, back again?” Al said.

“Hello, Al. I just need to see the room again,” Granger said. “I’ve already got the key from the rental agency.”

“Okay, I’ll be down here if you need anything.”

Granger thanked the man and gave a wide smile and followed Snape to the stairwell.

Beatrice lived on the fourth floor and there was no lift. Snape’s age was becoming clearer to him with each step. He managed to keep Granger from noticing at least. Then the concrete step he was on wobbled. He fell back with a yelp. Two small hands touched his back, catching him. He looked down at the cause of his fall. A thick crack crossed the step, not enough to break it but close.

“I didn’t know you were in front of me!” She hissed.

“I would avoid that step, Miss Granger.” Snape said and walked on.

Once on the fourth floor Snape scanned for neighbors. Seeing none he whispered to her and stood aside so Granger could walk past him.

The door was now taped off and he knew that Beatrice was not behind it. Something about that hit him. No were near as painful as seeing her body but still he paused.

Granger took out her wand. Passing it across the door the protective spells fell. Her wand was slipped back into its home and then she broke the tape by hand. The door unlocked with a wandless, wordless _Alohomora_. All tasks completed with a practiced grace.

Snape was impressed.

“Have you been moonlighting as a thief Miss Granger?” He whispered. She flinched not realizing how close behind her he was.

 “This is all standard procedure, sir,” she whispered back and walked inside.

Snape followed and removed the cloak after she shut the door.

His vision blurred for a moment. Everything about this place pushed memories to the front of his mind. Fighting to keep them buried where they belonged was giving him a head ache. The dull throbbing pain tore at his temples. He had to rub them.

“Are you okay?” Granger asked him.

“Yes,” he sighed. “Though, I must ask you something.”

“What is it, sir?”

“Why are you helping me? And to repeat my earlier question, how long have been following me?”

Granger took a breath before answering. Snape braced for the verbal deluge. “I’ve followed you from the pub.”

“You sure it wasn’t the ministry.” Snape said.

Granger stepped back a little wide eyed. “You know?” She blurted out. Then she rolled her eyes and said, “of course you know.” She sat on the couch and waved for him to join her. When he didn’t she continued speaking, “I wasn’t really there for you. I needed to talk to Harry because Beatrice came to me with information on a case I’ve been working on.”

“A case?” Snape asked.

“An… off the books case,” Granger responded but looked away as she spoke.

“What could the Dept of Magical Creatures be investigating? House elf fighting rings, Unicorn blood farms, or is this ‘we’ another group entirely?”

“You have a disturbing imagination,” Granger said.

Snape slipped in to her mind. He could see Dumbledore. “I understand,” he murmured.

When I caught up to Harry, Sirius and he were planning on tailing you. Sirius wanted to be the one to follow you.”

Snape groaned at that idea. He was already skittish about any black dog he saw lurking about.

“I asked to do it for him,” Granger said. “Scrimgeour wants the department to focus on Krystal. So they could get in trouble for following you. I won’t and I have a reason to be here. Harry gave me the cloak to help. He’s worried about you, you know. I hope you understand I’m breaking my best friend’s trust helping you. I need your help.”

 “The _former spy_ is who you trust with this information. That makes sense.”

She rose from her seat and walked towards him. “The former spy who’s the reason I’m not dead. Yes Professor, _I trust you_.” She said.

“What could you possibly do to help me?” Snap asked looking away from her.

“I can keep you out of the reach of the Aurors for a start. You don’t want to go to Azkaban for interfering with a case do you? My boss agreed to cover for you in case you get caught. Also I can give you access to ministry resources. So what do you think?” She said as she held out her hand.

Snape looked down at her hand then to her face. Her eyes focused on him and she bit her lip waiting for his answer.

“Besides she was your friend right?”

Snape turned away from her again. “Mr. Potter still confides in his trio I see.” He said.

“Sometimes yes but that I found out from Lucius Malfoy.” She said grimacing and taking her hand back. “He threw a tantrum as he was being released. He wasn’t happy to learn you hid your relationship with Beatrice. I’m afraid most of the ministry knows by now.”

“Lovely.”

“I’m sorry by the way.”

“Don’t apologize for other people, Miss Granger.”

“I meant for your loss.”

Snape looked back to Granger for a moment. He walked past her. “You haven’t told me everything. Until then I can make no agreements.”

“I understand. Would you be willing to come with me to a safe location after here then?”

Snape was a little surprised by how accommodating she was. “Yes,” he said, “I suppose that may work.” He looked around the flat. “I assume this place was searched by the Aurors.”

“Yes, they took some documents and documented everything else.”

“Anything else Potter tell you?”

 “That he thinks it’s an open and shut case.”

“And what about the younger Mr. Malfoy?”

“He says he saw Krystal leave with a man. Krystal contradicts this and is already claiming she’s the killer. You believe Draco?”

“I believe even an open and shut case should be investigated.” Shape said as he looked over the black sofa. It showed no signs being damaged or cleaned up. Checking the floor its indent in the carpet was firmly under its feet. It hadn’t been moved. Standing up he turned to face Granger.

She did not face him. Her eyes were fixed on the collection of photos on the wall. He knew there was nothing of value in them. Every photo was of Beatrice alone and smiling. She had a lovely smile that was not going to help them.

_I never did see her smile like that. Did I?_

“Notice anything, Miss Granger?” Snape said looking at a fake plant. He wondered if something could have been hidden in it.

“She really favored this one necklace?” she asked.

“The one with the chunk of blue lace agate? I believe so.” Snape said as if she just commented on the weather. She might as well have as far as Snape was concerned.

“Oh, the Aurors checked that plant.”

Snape sighed and lifted himself up, ignoring the warning from his back. Yes, she did have a favorite necklace. Snape could never think of a time that Beatrice went without the gaudy necklace. She didn’t even take it off when—

Snape turned on the spot and strode to the bedroom. Granger was right behind him.

“It wasn’t on her? Do you know if they found the necklace?” Snape said without breaking his stride. He waved his hand and the floor lamp in the corner turned on.

“What? I mean no. I can ask.” Granger responded while Snape headed straight for the jewelry box on the nightstand.

A quick rummaging confirmed what he suspected; the necklace was gone. He confirmed something for Granger too.

“So you were there.” She said.

Snape felt his insides drop. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Miss Granger,” he said as he turned to her.

Her back was against the door. The lamplight barely reached her face. He could still make out her expression, thinned lips and a pinched brow. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.” She said. “But why were you there? Did you know?”

“You said there was a place where you could tell me everything. I’ll tell you there.” He answered.

“Fine.” She said. “We’ll lay it all out on the table and see what we’ll do next.”

The two stayed silent until they heard a knock.

“Detective Granger?” Al called out.

She bolted from the room and shut the bedroom door behind her.

He waited as Granger chatted with the old man and looked over the room. His relationship with Beatrice weighted on his mind. How it was never really a friendship. How they couldn’t be lovers either. How the only reason he came here was because of some drunk.

She was afraid to go home alone and sat next to Snape at the bar. He took her home and she offered tea. Against his better judgment, he went inside. He should have known what would happen next.

He didn’t go in wanting sex. Snape was just tired and wanted a cuppa for escorting a lady home. She didn’t force him. She kissed him and took his hand. He followed and let it all happen.

He never got any tea.

He never wanted to have sex. He just didn’t have that drive. At most he was curious about was why anyone enjoyed the act. After Avery was the first to sneak back into the dorm late at night he dug up some old books. Hidden away in the library he skimmed though the text and watched the anatomical art perform. It all looked uncomfortable and a little gross.

Not that his dorm mates agreed, at least it got them in the library more. Now he was a bit annoyed none of them ever admitted he was right. Of course he wasn’t about to waltz right into Azkaban to call out any of the few still alive. No, that would be spectacularly petty, even for him. Also it would mean admitting he lost his virginity in his forties.

Though he found a little relief that sex wasn’t like the sappy cheap paperbacks he confiscated throughout his teaching years. The closest thing to sap was the sticky mess on his lap afterwards. Unfortunately, he neither gained relief or healing from sex like in those books. No completion either.

It left him feeling disgusting. It was just like a gnawing realization seemed to come from a H.R Geiger painting. Man is a machine, or a part of a machine or just a brick in the fuck wall or something else morbid and depressing. However it was put he left this flat feeling more broken.

_And yet you kept coming back._

He felt the warmth of tears on his face and he brought his sleeve up. Replacing the liquid heat with the dry burn of skin rubbed raw he walked to the mirror. Looking in he saw to his relief Beatrice kept a muggle mirror. He didn’t need to be told how red splotches and eyes made him look worse than ugly. He could see that just fine.

“If Granger even thinks of trying to coddle me over this,” Snape murmured leaving the treat unfinished.

Maybe checking the room would he my mind off her. He thought and got on the floor. Snape lifted the blankets hanging off the bed and casted Lumos. Shoe boxes, dust bunnies and bits of trash were the only things there. Snape huffed annoyed at getting on the floor for nothing. His breath kicked up some dust. To Snape’s shock the dust settled on something that wasn’t there. He didn’t want to touch it. He didn’t know if whatever was inside was cursed. He could use his wand to summon it but he needed the light as well. Whatever was inside could be volatile and he liked his face on his face.

He had to wait for Granger so he could see what he was doing. Snape sighed and rolled onto his back. His hand slid under the dresser.

 _How long are they going to chat_? He thought. _Either way I might want to get off the floor before she comes back_. He began to get up but froze when his hand touch something under the dresser.

It was not wood. What he touched was smooth plastic that shifted over a curved surface. Snape pulled it free and rolled onto his hip (with an ache and a grunt) to look at the small bag he found. The clear plastic bag wasn’t magical but was attached with a rolled up piece of spell-o tape. Inside he could see a film canister and a key. The key was average save for the scratches on its head. Snape had an idea what to do with that. The film canister described its contents as ‘35mm colour’ film so he at least knew that.

“Alright, good night,” he heard Granger say loud enough it was obvious she was tipping him off. He started to get up then felt a slight strain on his back.

 _No point in doing this twice_ , Snape thought. Settling back on the floor, this time he faced the bed.

“Professor Snape?” Granger asked when she couldn’t see him.

Snape held up his hand “Down here, Miss Granger. I’ve found something,” he said.

Grangers crouched down, keeping an eye on her skirt. “What is it?” she asked.

“There’s something hidden under the bed, I’ll need a light,” he responded. She casted _lumos_ and Snape gave a quick “thank you.”

He summoned a small box from the nightstand and moved it behind the hidden object. Nudging it forward, Snape felt it snag as the piece it a silver cloth became visible.

“Is that?” Snape asked.

Granger finished his question, “A piece of an invisibility cloak?”

The two looked at one another, then back to the cloth. Granger put out her wand.

“Let me get it.” She said.

Snape lit his wand so she could see. “Be careful, Miss Granger,” he hissed.

Granger nodded and carefully summoned the cloth free of the now visible box. Both of them flinched when the box dropped slightly as the cloth was pulled from the bottom. Nothing happened and it felt safe to breathe again.

Granger scanned the cloth for curses. “I found nothing,” she said.

Snape double checked her and, feeling nothing, he pulled it out of the way. Granger relit her wand. He went back to pushing the box close enough to check that for curses. Getting there he ran his wand over it. Once more he checked for a tug, a chill, a whisper, or anything that would hint at a trap. Nothing, he again switched light duty with Granger. She now double checked his work with a knitted brow.

“All clear,” she said and drew a circle three times with her wand. Light wrapped around the box and formed a bubble.

“Is that going to work?” he asked.

“It kept the explosion from a pipe bomb in so I’d say yes.”

 _A pipe bomb_ , Snape thought, _oh that’s a story I’ll have to hear._

He let Granger take it. She held the protective orb in her hands and turned it slowly investigating its angles. While she was distracted, Snape got up doing his best to hide his grimace. He seemed to be successful but didn’t push his luck to rub his aching back.

“There’s no way to open this!” Granger said. Her head tilted trying to figure out the object suspended in the bubble.

She was right. The box was actually more like a brick. No latch, hinge or even a seam were present on its black shape. The only marking on it was the painting of a short frog-like man dressed as a fool.

“I believe this is also a clue.” Snape said and handed the bag he found to Granger.

“This key’s been scratched. Do you think Beatrice did it or her killer?” She asked.

“Considering where I found it, I’d say the former.” He answered. “What I would like to know where does this key belong?”

“And why would she hide it?”

“Yes,” Snape said, “did your little chat prove useful?”

Granger’s eyes narrowed. “Yes, actually, but I think we should finish up here first.” She said and then left in a huff.

The two then worked in blessed silence after that. They turned up nothing else.

___

He followed Granger while under Potter’s cloak. Once in the dark alley he took Granger’s arm and they left.

“I’m afraid I can’t Apparite straight inside. There’s a lift though,” she said, “If we are separated I’m on the third floor. I’ll wait outside.”

The ‘safe location’ turned out to be Granger’s flat. It was a nicer place than Beatrice’s. Built shortly after the war for middle class magical folk it bustled with life. Snape had to dodge a pair of goblins coming in from work. Then duck under a witch’s groceries floating by. Still he made it to the lift, bumping Granger’s arm to let he know where he was.

They were luckily the only ones in the lift. Even luckier the floor was empty when they got off. Though that’s where their luck ended. Granger stopped in the middle of the hall when she spotted a cardboard box at her door. Snape peaked around her busy hair to see what was in the box. A few stuffed bears, some cards and photos, the box contained the sort of gifts one would give their lover. Of course if they’re in a box they probably not Miss Granger’s lover anymore.

Snape inhaled sharply though his teeth.

Granger turned in the direction of the sound and looked annoyed.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered half heartedly. “Would you like me to pick it up?”

“No I’ve got it.” She whispered back as she turned from him.

She picked up the box and tucked it under one arm. She pulled out her wand and unlocked her door. When she opened the door she stepped back. The moment Snape saw her eyes widen he sprung into action. He threw off the cloak and stepped between her and whatever threatened her. And what he ended up aiming his wand at was an armadillo patronus.

“What?” was all Snape managed to say before the armadillo opened its mouth.

A woman’s angry voice shattered the silent hall. “I SEE YOU’VE CHANGED THE LOCKS!”

“GRANGER,” an equally shrill voice screamed from down the hall.

“I LEFT YOUR STUFF OUTSIDE!”

 “Quick,” Granger said and shoved Snape into her flat, “hide!”

“OF ALL THE RUDE NONSENSE I HAVE TO DEAL WITH!”

The patronus continued to screech as Snape made it past and into the hall closet.

“I HOPE I DIDN’T RUIN YOUR NIGHT OUT WITHOUT SOMEONE YOU WERE DOING NOTHING WITH,” the patronus shouted. Then the woman from down the hall came in screaming at Granger.

He peeked out between the slits in the door. Granger stood between the screaming armadillo and a short angry elderly woman in a blue night gown. Granger look like she was about to go hoarse trying to explain over all the noise. When the patronus vanished the woman calmed down only mentioning the land lord would be hearing about this. With that she left.

Granger lowered her head and her hair fell over her face. So Snape couldn’t see if she was shaking because of rage or tears. He wasn’t sure what to do. He never was good with crying. He sat down in the closet hopping his nerves would soon lessen.

The closet door swung open. Snape turn his wand on the silhouetted form of Granger. He couldn’t see her face but her magic filled the air with rage and sadness. She was a dark vision of pain and power.

“I think we can talk freely now.”


	5. Chapter 5

Snape got out of the closet as Granger took a seat on the couch. There heat around her. Snape waited to be burned.

“I’m sorry you had to see that.” Granger said tactfully not going into the back-story. Snape appreciated that given he could see the need to vent cracking at her mental seams. “You should give me the box. Harry’s going to drop in for his cloak. I want to give the box to him because his department has more resources for this sort of thing.”

“The cloak,” Snape croaked. He hoped that bothersome neighbor of hers didn’t pick it up. Snape felt stupid for tossing such a valuable item.

Granger pulled the cloak from her trench coat. “I have it don’t worry. You…threw it on me.”

Snape was relieved to see it safe but still felt dumber than before. He handed the box still in the orb to her.

 _At least you didn’t drop that ball_ , he thought.

“Anyway,” Granger said, “I guess you know who’s really in charge of this case?”

 “The Order,” Snape said, “Is the Order investigating Crabbe and Goyle?”

“No.” Granger said, “Beatrice was an informant in another case with her other boss.”

“A case and boss that also involves the Magical Creatures Department,” Snape said.

“At first, yes, but when I saw the connection I got in contact with Professor Dumbledore. My boss is in the Order as well so it was easy to cover everything up as a minor event.” Granger said and then paused waiting for a question about her employer.

 “It’s unsurprising that Albus Dumbledore has his feelers in every branch of the ministry.” He said.

Granger sighed, “What a kind description.” She said and began her explanation. “During the war, Muggleborns were desperate to survive.” She spoke like she was about to fall though ice. “And few had ties to organized crime and were willing to break the Statue of Secrecy.”

“They used the resources at hand to survive and now there are muggle criminals are aware of magic.” Snape said, lacing his fingers and tightening his grip. His innards felt smashed like a lead weight dropped from his chest cavity.

 “Yes,” Granger said softening and relaxing her shoulders. “We found out a year later when the first group broke away from their handlers. They were afraid to turn to the ministry so they went to Professor Dumbledore.” She paused to catch her breath and Snape cut in.

“And the Order was reformed without me.”

“It wasn’t like that!” Granger said, “We did try to get in touch with you but…” She trailed off looking down at her hands. Then she found her nerve and looked up to him. Granger thinned her lips and gave him a glare. “ _You_ never came,” she said, “We used holidays and anniversaries as cover for meetings. When you never showed up everyone felt you wanted to be left alone. Were we wrong?”

He was unable to answer. His jaw clenched itself shut. Snape felt like both hot and cold sensations running though him. They muddled into a lukewarm emptiness as Granger spoke again.

“We’ve managed to contain most of the damage. We’ve oblivated most of the muggles and helped those who wanted to escape. Beatrice’s boss, Conall Murphy, is the last gang leader we need to catch. He’s gathering up willing criminal muggleborns, and killing other muggles that know of our existence.” She said and waved her wand. “He also kills those that won’t work under him.”

A folder floated into Granger’s hand. She passed it to Snape. Opening the folder, he took out a thick stack of papers each with a photo attached with a paper clip. All but one was marked with either ‘Oblivated’ or ‘Deceased.’ He wasn’t sure if it was a relief the former was the majority. Flipping back to Murphy he looked over the file.

Born in Liverpool, Conall Murphy was only four years older than Snape. Murphy was first caught and then convicted for breaking into a neighbor’s flat at sixteen. Later he was convicted of animal cruelty for killing the same neighbor’s cat. After that his family moved to Manchester. He was suspected in several robberies and burglaries but never charged. According to these notes he joined a family at this point as well. He was now the prime suspect in the deaths of the heads of that family.

“When Beatrice got in touch it was a blessing. Murphy is smart. He never stays in one place long enough to put down anti-apparition spells,” Granger said. “And he always keeps a wizard on hand to quickly apparate when we try to catch him.”

“He killed her, or more likely had her killed. I’m guessing? She ratted him out and he killed her.” Snape quipped and smoothly handed the folder back to Granger.

“Maybe,” she said. “We don’t know yet but if he did it wasn’t for that. I want to explain everything and maybe soften the blow.” She bit her lip and looked away.

“Soften the blow? What blow Miss Granger?” Snape asked.

“Like I said,” Granger mumbled, “It was a blessing when she contacted us.”

“Miss Granger,” Snape warned.

“We were sloppy, Romilda and I. We’re lucky Professor Lupin and Tonks were there to save us.”

“Miss Granger.”

Granger looked him in the eye. Her lip wavered a moment before speaking, “She lead us into a trap.” She leaned closer looking for any response. “She tricked us and we were going to bring her in before she was killed.”

 Snape didn’t respond.

Granger ventured forth with a trembling voice, “Professor Snape?”

Snape exhaled, closed his eyes and spoke, “It means nothing.”

“What?”

“Nothing, it means nothing. She may have been forced or willing then but she was still murdered Miss Granger,” Snape said. He opened his eyes and looked. She relaxed. It looked as if he said what she hoped he’d say. That was not something he was used to. Snape wasn’t sure how to feel about either of those things.

“Alright then,” Granger said, “before Harry comes or we’re interrupted by…anyone else.” Her eyes darted to the door. “We should plan our next moves.” She stood up and walked to her kitchen. Said kitchen was a third of the living room space, separated by a small kitchen counter.

Snape removed the bag from his pocket. “I can handle the key tonight. I have a lab I can convert to develop the film starting tomorrow,” Snape said.

Granger flinched. “Would, that stop you from doing any potion work?” She asked as she came back to the couch. She was holding a container of what looked like apple juice. Actually it was a deeper amber colour than apple juice.

“Yes, it would. Tell me what you want and I can prioritize what I need to do.” Snape said as she back down.

“Okay,” She said and placed the small container on the coffee table. Snape snatched it up. Granger lifted her hands to stop him but just ended up dumbly holding her hands up.

“Right, yeah,” She sighed and tucked her locks behind her ear. “This is a bit experimental. I need you to use Scarpin's Revelaspell, on…that sample.” She said and leaned closer in another vain attempt to get the container back.

Snape found her treatment of him like he was a dangerous animal funny. So funny he tilted a brow up and held the small container just out of her reach. “I would think the brightest witch of her age would be capable of something as simple as Scarpin's Revelaspell?” He said and leaned in to needle her more. He regretted it when his nose brushed against her hair and he caught a whiff of her shampoo. He pulled back and examined the container. He could feel the tingle of the stasis charm on his palm. The first thing he thought of was the little containers his soup comes in when he orders take away. The lid was thicker though. Maybe it was a broth?

“I need someone with a background in potions like you. This isn’t the type of sample Scarpin's Revelaspell is used on. I got the idea from how muggles test for drugs.”

That confused Snape for a moment seeing as the spell was often used on drinks. Then he remembered the other fluids muggles tested for drugs.

“Miss Granger, please tell me I’m not holding in my hand…a jar of piss.” Snape said.

Granger took the container from Snape and placed it back on the coffee table. “Well, now you aren’t.” She murmured.

Snape glared at her. “Would you mind if I used your toilet?” He ground out through gritted teeth.

“Of course,” Granger said. He noticed she wouldn’t meet his eye. “It’s down the hall.”

Snape glared for a second longer then walked down the hall Granger indicated to wash his hands. He didn’t touch anything but he still want to wash his hands three times.

___

“That went horribly.” Hermione said and pouted. If Snape backed out now she was screwed. She needed Snape and not just for this case. This was a plan she had in the works for some time. One of many plans true but she never had a chance to act on any of them until now.

Hermione bit her thumb and grumbled.

Deatheaters and their sympathizers were still out there. And one of her plans was to find was to incorporate muggle science in wizarding life. Muggle studies were fine at making muggles look quaint but quaint was far from useful or equal. If anything, Hermione found her Muggle Studies class could slide towards the noble savage route. Glossing over the nastier side of the muggle world; the bigotry, nationalism, capitalism, and genocide the class hides anti Deatheater lessons in its rosy view of muggle life. At first glance it seemed perfect and probably did help some avoid that path. Yet, that sort a lesson could be twisted by someone clever enough.

Hermione shuddered. She knew how they would do it too. She saw the pamphlets and heard the insults. She even saw the new ammunition they would get if what these gangsters did became common knowledge. The witches and wizards that were forced to make sex potions day and night to keep people forced into sex work compliant. There were people who had to magically enhance muggle drugs and then those who experienced the results, success or failure. The one that would haunt Hermione for some time would be the runners. Really Apparater would be a better term. They were forced to apparate back and forth from a small boat to shore with drugs and weapons. Eventually they would become tired and begin to splinch themselves. The gangsters didn’t care. They were aware of the desperate situation the refugees found themselves in.

If this got to someone like Lucius Malfoy it would likely spawn the next wave of Deatheaters. It felt a bit Orwellian but keeping everything hush kept a bomb out of her enemy’s hands.

Scrimgeour was never going to agree. He was far too set on getting his position as minister back. He felt he deserved it after being ousted during the war. He also felt that the punishments doled out by the interim ministry were far too lenient. She did agree with that point. Unfortunately, many agreed with both points making another faction for the order to face. Both the Deatheaters and they threaten the delicate peace we’ve all suffered for.

She was going to do everything to crush them at every opportunity.

Knowing they would curse her name would keep her warmer at night then any man, woman or cat. She could just imagine them, sitting in their parlors. Trying to explain away the most famous muggleborn witch and reformed Deatheater working together. How could they spin Hermione and Snape proving a pureblood witch innocent with a blending of magic and science? This case was perfect so when Harry asked her for advice on Snape she leap in.

Of course his childish attitude _had_ to get in the way. She could only hope he could look past his revulsion to see the necessity. He must want the real killer caught? That’s why he was there tonight.

She looked up and saw Snape returning just as the flames in her fireplace turned green. She looked up to him and Snape nodded. He slipped into her bedroom and she slipped the sample under the coffee table.

Harry stepped out of the flames and dusted himself off. “How, uh, how did it go?” he coughed.

“Fine,” Hermione said. “I don’t think Professor Snape will be involved in your case anymore.”

“Hmm, forgive me if I’m not so sure, Hermione,” Harry said. She couldn’t blame him knowing Snape. “So he just gave up.”

“No,” Hermione said. “It took a bit of convincing but I think he sees our side. Besides, He’s not really been too keen on anything dangerous since the war.”

“I suppose your right. Still, the idea of Snape just letting go is a stretch.”

“Harry,” she warned. “Besides, how many times do I have to be right about Professor Snape before you start listening?”

 “Kidding, Hermione.” Harry said and held up his hands. “And you’re right. I should trust you.”

Hermione threw her hands into the air. “Yes, finally!” She exclaimed. Coming down she said “by the way Harry, I searched the flat again and found this box.” She held up the light orb and with a touch sent it softly floating to Harry.

Harry took the orb and looked it over. “Do you know what’s in it?”

“Afraid not. I bubbled it as soon as I could. I thought it would be best to hand it off to be checked for curses first.”

“Good idea.” Harry said. He then looked down to her coffee table where she left the box of her things. “I see Tori was here. She cause any trouble?”

 “Her? No. Her patronus? Yes.”

Harry tousled his hair and sighed. “I think you should start listening to my advice on her, Hermione.” He said.

“Harry,” Hermione warned again.

“I’m serious Hermione. A restraining order might be your best bet.”

“Harry that seems a bit much.”

“Really? She keeps finding way to get into your life and cause trouble.”

“She was already a part of the same social circles as me before we were together. Besides,” Hermione said and looked down at her shoes, “She’s only lashing out because I broke her heart.”

“She broke her own heart by expect you to be someone else.”

Hermione couldn’t answer him.

“Just think it over, Hermione.” Harry said and gave her a faint smile. Ron and I are here for you either way. If you need a guest bedroom to get away at, anything.” He leaned down to meet her eyes as he spoke. Green eyes pierced her with their kind gaze.

“Okay,” Hermione croaked.

Harry stood up and looked over the orb and the box inside. “I know a guy in my department who loves taking a part magical protections and curse-breaking. He’s also good at keeping things quiet.” He said and walked back to the fireplace. “I’ll send you an owl tomorrow, see you later Hermione.”

“Bye, Harry,” Hermione said.

Harry took some floo powder and tossed into the flames. Once the flames turned green he stepped in and announced his destination. The flames enveloped him and he vanished with the fire leaving Hermione alone with her sinking gut. Another weight was added when she realized Severus Snape the, sneaky bastard that he was, most certainly eavesdropped on her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter updates are probably going to take longer than before. I'm really sorry to everyone following this story but my life has become very stressful and that's had a very negative impact on my mental health. There looks to be light at the end of the tunnel but I've got my fingers crossed. I've mentioned elsewhere I may take a break for a few months. I'm not sure at this point but if I do I still be on the net I'm just taking a break from making stuff.
> 
> Take care I love you all!


	6. Chapter 6

“Well, that was interesting,” Snape whispered. He had of course eavesdropped on that whole conversation. _So Armadillo lady is named Tori,_ he thought. He had known a few women by that name. But he couldn’t pick which one that shrieking voice belonged to.

A deep meow came from behind him. Peaking over his shoulder, he saw Granger’s ancient cat curled up on the bed. The beast gave him a narrow eyed glare; ears pinned back and its tail thumped on the mattress.

“Don’t like me listening in on your mistress, huh?” Snape said and turned back to the door. “Well it’s not like you can do anything about it.”

The ginger beast hissed at him as he left the room. Snape hid a smug smirk.

“I guess you heard everything.” Granger grumbled as Snape came back. She looked down at her hands and fiddled with her ring.

“Yes,” Snape said and a hint of that smirk peaked out. “Though, I found little relevant to Beatrice. You will contact me after Mr. Potter sends his owl?”

“Yes, and about my sample—

“ _That_... can stay here. I’ll come here and work on it.”

She looked up at him with a burning glare. “Fine,” Granger huffed. Then she straightened up and summoned a pack of papers. “You’ll need your paperwork.” She said and gave him the stack. “Fill it out to officially be a confidential consultant.”

“Ah,” Snape said, “So do I pick my pseudonym now?”

“Oh you don’t pick a code name.”

“What? Why not?”

“Well, people tend to pick a name that’s somehow _related_ to them. So our protocol is that a random name is used to help keep the consultants’ identity secret.”

“So when will my name be picked for me?” Snape asked choosing to ignore how pointed the word related was said. _As if I would get pulled into an argument that easy Miss Granger._ He thought.

“It already has.” Granger said and pointed to the papers.

Snape looked at the papers and found—

“Michael Wilson?” Snape said while shaking his head.

“You can bring that back in the morning. Floo’s in the pot on the right”

“Good night, Miss Granger,” Snape quipped and walked to the fireplace. Then he paused. He felt a tug at his gut and it wasn’t a portkey. “You know Potter may have a point. You don’t deserve such treatment.” He said without looking at her.

There was silence for a second. He wondered if he said the wrong thing before he heard a soft “Thank you.”

* * *

Snape fell onto his floor. Getting up with a sigh, he dusted himself off and waved back at the fireplace. A metal grate manifested itself though the floor.

Taking the evidence from his pocket he placed them on his coffee table. Snape planted himself on his ratty sofa to think of what to do next.

The film would be saved to tomorrow but he would still see if he had the ingredients needed. He would also set everything up tonight while he was up.

Then there was the key. Beatrice really wanted to hide whatever on it. It looked like she used an etching spell to scratch off the markings. It can’t be transfigured back. A wizard would contaminate it with his own will during manipulation. Most wizards would have considered the key useless as a result.

Luckily, Snape wasn’t most wizards.

It was clearly a muggle key. So the scratched of part was likely stamped with some sort of identification. Beatrice must have been satisfied by obliterating the indentations. It was unlikely she knew that during stamping the metal beneath is compressed. Muggles found a method to expose that compressed metal.

First he was going to smooth and polish the key head. He would have to get sand paper for that. He’d then use Fry’s reagent to bring out the compressed metal. Of course that would mean picking up a few things.

Snape dug an old wrist watch with a missing strap from his pocket. _After ten_ , he thought. _Most places are closed. I’ll have to save most shopping until tomorrow. But there are a few things I can do._

Snape stood up and walked up stairs to his workroom. Said workroom was once his parent’s room. When he came back to this place, he slit the room in two. The larger half was his workroom, the smaller became a water closet.

He opened the door and held his wand. Magical ingredients that go bad can do worse things than stink up a room. It seemed his fears were unnecessary. The worse of it was a couple of fungus colonies and some sort of teratoma like growth. He could deal with that later. Beatrice’s killer was still loose.

Everything in the room had gained an impressive layer of dust. After the war he went a bit overboard when buying new supplies. He ended up missing more than a few meals as a result. With a wave the dust vanished from the shelf.

The flux weed was getting ready to turn. Yet, it was still good enough for a developing solution. The equipment was buried somewhere with the rest of his teaching supplies in the closet. He tied his hair back and dug into the pile.

Developing solution was something he saved for his NEWT level students. It was probably the highlight of the school year for him, not that he’d let anyone know that. It at least gave him something to grade other than off color potions. Every now and again he even had a student who knew what headroom and lead room was.

Snape first found his film tank. It was small and a bit old but in working order. The film spirals were still inside and intact. After setting up the trays he went to work on the solution.

The muggle chemicals were useless by now. They were not difficult to buy though.

Stripping off his robes he found some cleanish muggle clothes; a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. He threw on his green jacket as he went back downstairs. A summoned map with the ministry logo on the cover floated after him. Getting back to the living room he spread the map out on his coffee table.

The map was blank until Snape tapped it with his wand and said the name of the nearest city. A map of said city drew itself on the paper with several red circles. Each circle marked a lot reserved by the Ministry for wizards to apparate to and from. The map was useful (and handed out for free from the ministry) so Snape choose to forget where the idea came from.

Choosing a spot he then turned to one of the book shelves that lined his walls. The book he was looking for was easy to spot if you looked hard enough. It was the one that was breathing. Taking it down, he felt the book press against his hand just enough to be felt on an inhale. The book could only be opened to the middle as the pages connected to a set of human teeth at the center of the book.

Snape tapped certain teeth in the correct order and slipped his hand into the mouth. In the black void he had reached into he felt for a wad of cash. Finding it he took what he needed and returned the rest and the book to their places. All set he apparated from his house.

Snape reappeared near a Lloyds Bank. Relieved to see he was alone, he made his way down dark streets to the photography shop.

Getting the film chemicals was easy. The store was small and muggles sold them in convenient kits. So after a quick walk he was at the hardware shop to get what he needed for the key. Though the store was large and the confusing layout made it hard to find what he needed.

On an isle of power tools ranging from functional to clearly compensating he found a clerk. Her face only inches from her phone. Snape expected her to notice someone standing right in front of her. Underestimating the teen she continued to tap away at the screen. Snape brows rose. With a slight wave of his hand a small packet of light tarp slipped off its high self.

She yelped as the tarp hit the back of her head and her nose hit the screen.

“What the hell,” the clerk, Colleen according to her name tag, said looking up like she was going to see someone to blame.

“Unfortunate.” Snape said. “Do you know where the pool supplies are?”

Colleen stared at him with her mouth agape. “I just got hit in the head!” She squawked.

“Which I sure did not affect your memory. Pool. Supplies.”

Colleen drew herself up. She was a bit taller than Snape but he was not going to let a teenager intimate him. He stood his ground and the teen cowered to her elder. “Three isles down that way,” she said and pointed behind her with her thumb. Snape nodded and left the brat to her phone. Then they both went back to hating their mundane lives.

Snape soon found the isle and picked out a bottle of Hydrochloric acid. On his way back he spotted Colleen back on her phone with company. Another girl texted away on her phone and her name tag also read Colleen.

“Great, they reproduce by mitosis now.” Snape murmured as he slipped passed to make his purchase.

Next was the methanol. He chose to wait until tomorrow. It had been sometime since he pulled an all-nighter and he needed to pace himself. He found a café and took advantage of it.

It wasn’t too crowded. So Snape ordered his usual, coffee with milk, and sat down. The booth was comfortable but made of some tacky muted orange pleather. Grunting with annoyance at the comical sound the seat made, he sat down. Grabbing two packets of sugar he sweetened his coffee and began keeping an eye on his surroundings out of habit. There wasn’t much to see. Looking out the window he saw not much else outside as well.

The only thing that caught his attention was a jogger going pass. He took another sip to keep himself calm. He didn’t know where he knew the man in the tracksuit. That wasn’t the problem. The problem was that he _knew_ that he had seen him somewhere before. Sure that could mean he had known the man from some shop or from Cokeworth. But his paranoia was long a useful tool to saying alive. It was also possible that he was an Auror and Granger misjudged her friend or lied to Snape or worse. Another sip and another he had gone through half his cup.

The man had come back once and then a third time. Each time he came back the man tried to make it look like he wasn’t keeping an eye on Snape. This made it more oblivious he was keeping an eye on Snape.

 _Merlin, couldn’t they send someone competent_. Snape thought and gulped down the rest of his coffee. He couldn’t hold this off anymore. All he had to do was get to an apparition lot. Maybe he could out run him or out smart him.

Paying his bill Snape made a brisk exit. Looking over his shoulder he saw the man in the track suit following him. Snape broke into a run and the man cursed at Snape. Then less vulgar curses were hurled at Snape in the form of blazing jets of light from dark alleyways.

 _Diffidently not Aurors._ Snape thought as he reflected a hex. Another hex from the same location told him he failed to hit his attacker. Judging by the volleys he had two pursuers. One who stuck to the shadowy back alleys firing at Snape whenever they could. The other was the runner who followed Snape shouting Snape’s location and direction. _A Squib_? He thought.

Snape possibly could have fought them but he knew the noise would soon draw in half the Auror Department. He did not want to be bailed out by Potter again. Nor did he need to be interrogated by Black and Lupin. All Snape needed was enough of a lead.

And with a jelly leg jinx and a few lucky shots in the dark, he had gained his lead. Turning a corner he apparated away, not giving a damn about how much noise he made.


End file.
